"Come on, Lorgar, kneel down. I need to ask you for a favor."
"Of course."
Lorgar Aurelian knelt immediately.
No hesitation.
No indignation.
No confusion.
He folded his hands like an obedient initiate awaiting instruction.
Yuki almost laughed from sheer exhaustion.
"Lorgar, you understand the current situation of the Imperium, correct?"
Lorgar nodded calmly.
"I do."
"Then you also understand why you cannot openly promote religion."
A gentle smile appeared on Lorgar's face.
"But I have heard that our brother Sanguinius allows ritual traditions to continue on Baal. Is that not a deviation from the Imperial Truth?"
"That is culture, not worship," Yuki replied instantly. "Symbol, tradition, identity. Not deification."
Lorgar tilted his head.
"If faith sustains a people, should it be denied?"
"If necessary, Colchis may retain its customs," Yuki said flatly. "But they remain on Colchis."
"Truth should not be constrained by borders."
"Stop. Stay kneeling."
"Oh."
Yuki rubbed her temples.
She had tried logic.
She had tried authority.
She had tried persuasion.
She had even tried bribery.
Nothing worked.
It wasn't that Lorgar revered the Emperor.
Many Primarchs did — privately.
Some saw Him as more than human.
Some feared Him.
Some revered Him.
But none proclaimed Him divine.
None.
Except Lorgar.
And Lorgar did not merely believe.
He evangelized.
With frightening effectiveness.
Yuki exhaled slowly.
He could not be allowed near the XVII Legion until this was contained.
The Word Bearers were tasked with spreading the Imperial Truth.
Under Lorgar, they would spread faith instead.
That could ignite a civilizational catastrophe.
"Sorry, Lorgar," Yuki muttered. "This is for your own good."
Then she opened a channel.
"Guilliman, I'm sending you a colleague."
The Ministry of State Affairs
"What is this nonsense?"
Malcador looked tired.
Very tired.
Why did the Emperor's sons always arrive with existential crises attached?
"What kind of greeting is 'Brother, are you religious?'"
Guilliman blinked.
"I believe in the Imperial Truth. Religion is superstition."
Lorgar produced a small pendant.
A golden figure.
Unmistakable.
"Before deciding, brother, perhaps you would like to learn about the One True God of Mankind — the Emperor?"
Guilliman stared.
"…the same Emperor?"
"Who else could it be?"
Guilliman subtly moved his chair away.
Just slightly.
Purely for strategic reasons.
Lorgar noticed the discomfort but did not mind.
There were many brothers.
Many future believers.
An entire galaxy waiting for illumination.
His return to the Imperium had filled him with joy.
Worlds awaiting enlightenment.
Billions awaiting salvation.
But his brothers were… resistant.
Now he stood surrounded by silent Primarchs.
The atmosphere was oppressive.
Not hostile.
Worse.
Awkward.
Guilliman, normally a master of diplomacy, was speechless.
Perturabo looked at Lorgar as if examining structural flaws.
Mortarion simmered with residual irritation.
The Lion stood stiffly, observing like a knight assessing a battlefield.
If Luther and Yuki had not advised him to learn human interaction, he would have already left.
Guilliman finally spoke:
"Brothers… perhaps we should continue this discussion elsewhere."
Lorgar opened his mouth.
Closed it.
For the first time in years, the silver tongue that had conquered worlds failed him.
Elsewhere: Rewards and Responsibilities
"You performed well, Lion. What reward do you seek?"
The Lion El'Jonson sat upright.
"I require no reward."
"If not for you, then for your Legion."
Yuki sipped tea calmly.
The Lion hesitated.
Exactly as predicted.
"Equipment shipments will be dispatched to the First Legion," Yuki continued. "Additional wargear allotments included. Acceptable?"
A pause.
Then a slow nod.
The Lion was nothing if not practical.
His pride rejected rewards.
His duty accepted necessity.
Before Yuki could continue, the door exploded inward.
Mortarion strode in.
"The brothers are gathered. Why are you whispering in corners?"
The Lion's expression tightened.
Yuki smiled.
"We were discussing work. Join us?"
Mortarion dropped onto a sofa.
"Horus forbids me from killing parasites. Whose side are you on?"
"I am not choosing sides."
Mortarion stood abruptly.
"Then say what you mean!"
The Lion snapped:
"Mortarion."
"Do not bark at me."
Yuki raised a hand.
"Enough."
She turned to Mortarion.
"They are dead. Killing them solves nothing."
Mortarion's jaw tightened.
"Exploitation returns. Corruption returns. Oppression returns. You leave, and it grows again."
Yuki nodded.
"Yes."
Mortarion blinked.
"…yes?"
"Power corrupts. Short lives magnify greed. Systems outlive virtue."
She explained quietly:
random inspections
deterrence oversight
disciplinary commissions
rotating audits
Not solutions.
Containment.
Mortarion's face reddened.
He looked ready to explode.
Instead, Yuki softened her voice.
"Little Mo… can you give us time?"
Mortarion sank back into the sofa.
Silent.
The door opened again.
Perturabo entered, eyeing the damaged frame.
"Was there a siege?"
Mortarion glared.
"What do you want?"
"I came to report."
Perturabo dropped a massive blueprint onto the desk.
Yuki unfolded it.
Paused.
Looked up.
"This is exceptional."
Perturabo stared at the ceiling.
"A trivial exercise."
(A lie.)
"And Dorn," he added casually, "could never produce such efficiency."
Mortarion squinted.
"What is it?"
"Terra environmental reconstruction," Yuki replied. "The Throneworld deserves restoration."
"I think it's fine," Mortarion said.
Better than Barbarus.
Perturabo's eye twitched.
"I do not."
Mortarion inhaled slowly, preparing to escalate.
Yuki intervened:
"You're all here. Where is Lorgar?"
Silence.
The Lion: "…"
Mortarion: "…"
Perturabo: "Guilliman is with him."
Yuki closed her eyes.
"It would be a miracle if that goes well."
Meanwhile…
In a vast candlelit dining hall:
two Primarchs sat across from each other.
The table was immaculate.
The lighting intimate.
The silence unbearable.
Who turned off the lights?
Where is the switch?
Why is this happening?
Guilliman was near despair.
Why did everyone leave?
Why him?
Why alone?
Lorgar cleared his throat.
The atmosphere required conversation.
He asked the most natural question in the world.
"Brother… do you believe in religion?"
Guilliman stared into the void.
Help me.
Please.
I cannot endure this alone.
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